


Equal Power

by Zighana



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Cult
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mild Sexual Content, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zighana/pseuds/Zighana
Summary: Sometimes the best aphrodisiac is being regarded as an equal.





	Equal Power

Beverly finds herself assessing her environment and her situation at this moment. She, a woman in her mid-40s being wined and dined by a white man who’s old enough to be her son. He knows what wine she likes down to a science, generously paying for glass after glass while giving her intimate touches that are known to seduce. 

She snorts.

This blue-haired hipster wannabe councilman has more game and more wits about him than men her age. She should almost feel flattered that there’s at least someone that knows how to treat a lady in this day and age. 

He rattles off tired rhetoric and bullshit passing itself off as sugar that she mentally pokes holes through with her eyes. She’s heard this garbage before; she’s a reporter. But she’ll humor him; she’s bored and frustrated with her job and a few sweet nothings of ‘I know who you really are’ and ‘I understand how you, a black woman, must feel’ could distract her from bashing her head against this expensive marble or slit someone’s throat on the way out.

“When’s the last time you had sex? Good sex?”

She chokes.

The smug bastard grins a shit-eating grin, amused that he’s got her attention.

“Excuse me?” she asks.

“When’s the last time you had good sex? The sex that satisfies you almost as much as it satisfies your partner?”

“The year you were probably born.” She snarks. She downs the wine glass in seconds, savoring the undertones of fruits and spices that give it that exquisite touch. 

“Interesting.” His hand slides over to her wrist, thumbing it softly. 

“Describe it to me.”

Her eyes meet his, an eyebrow raised.

“Go on.”

She was sixteen.

Her partner was Gable, a friend of her brother’s that came to visit from college in the summer. 

She remembered being sweaty and on top of Gable in the backseat of her car, his jersey barely covering her breasts as she grinded and bounced on him.

She remembered him paying attention to her, asking her what she likes, playing with her clit in a way that’ll make her scream.

He didn’t call her a slut, he didn’t fuck her like she was some blow-up doll to practice on like the others. He let her take control, he communicated, he respected her.

Sometimes, when she touches herself, he imagines his face buried between her legs and she comes so hard and fast her breath leaves her.

“I was his equal.”

That’s as much as she’s going to reveal to Kai, and her tone meant it. 

Kai raises his eyebrows and takes a sip of scotch.

“Interesting.”

 

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s her loneliness, maybe it’s her giving in to the seductions of this manipulative sociopath, but she lets him into her home.

She’d heard what had happened to Serena; he did that…for her. He wanted her to believe in him.

She doesn’t bother with gentle kisses. She slams him against the wall, pawing at his shirt. But he grabs her hands and pins them before stealing her breath with his tongue snaking into her mouth.

Sex with him is rough, almost violent as the two are both dominant by nature and won’t back down. He fucks her with his hands wrapped around her throat, staring into her eyes as her expensively manicured nails claw into his neck, eager to slit his throat at any second.

Beverly’s orgasm has never tasted any sweeter.

They lie in bed together, both not trusting the other and sleeping with one eye open.

And they like it that way. 

Beverly has proven herself to be just as ruthless as Kai himself; she’s his right-hand man, the queen to his king of this cult. No one dared question it; some would argue her wrath was more frightening than Kai’s. Every order had to go through her, every plan had to go through her, no one could take a shit without her knowing about it. She has eyes and ears to just about everything, a fly on the wall in everyone’s eyes that she reports back to Kai so he could plan his next move.

Kai makes it obvious that she’s his favorite; he gives her more of his attention, is seen mostly with her, and fucks her in the basement where they hold their meetings, not caring who heard or who saw. 

Beverly is untouchable; she holds a magnificent amount of power that makes her feel strong, like she has a purpose and meaning. She, for the first time in 20 years, is treated as an equal. 

One night, as she lies in his sheets, wearing his old shirt as pajamas, she asks him, “Equal power?”

“Equal power.”

Kai kisses her calf, working his way to the indent of her inner thigh before lapping at her folds in a way that makes the breath in her voice hitch.


End file.
